Friends-part 2
The clear blue of the sky filled your vision, accompanied with the sensation of falling backwards. It would almost be serene if it weren't for the growing tightness in your chest. The familiar rhythm of breathing in and out absent with your descent; an additional weight around your midsection only adding to the pulling sensation. You felt your jaw hang slack; stuck in a deep, exhalation, voiding your lungs completely, and still you felt air continue to escape.
The treacherous earth rushed up behind, slamming any remaining oxygen from you in a choked squeak. Rather uncharacteristic of you, but the lack of air to your brain made pretenses seem less like a priority.
You laid their for a moment or two, waiting with baited breath (or rather lack there of) for your lungs to reset and begin their life giving duty. Your eyes crossed as you heavily sucked a breath in; an act so often done naturally, now made the center of your very being for it’s now sheer labored need.
Each inhale and cough became slowly easier as you felt blood rush from your head. If you weren't already purplish blue in coat your deprived skin would surely reflect it now.
A ringing in your ears muffled the world around you as a yellow and red blur filled your unfocused vision. The blur seemed to garble something at you, the weight from before, shifting and making it easier to breathe but not removing itself from a top you.
You continued to cough, but slowly the knocked wind returned to your lungs, and with it your senses.
“Fl-nt. -ou -kay?” The yellow and red blur spoke, an amber set of large eyes coming into focus, worry evident in them.
With a grunt and a shove, you rolled to a seated position and resumed righting yourself from the hit you just took. The ringing in your ears subsided with a gruff shake of your head, dislodging bits of dirt and grass that had been imbedded into your mane.
Next to you, the little yellow road block named ‘Applebloom’ eyed you warily. You had learned quickly that despite her size and kind nature, she was not only fast but hit hard.
Using a foreleg you wiped your mouth. A small smudge of red appeared on your hoof. Out of the corner of your eye you saw her shift uneasily to the sight.
“Oh!” She gasped “Ah’m so sorry, A-Ah don't know mah own strength sometimes!” She stepped forward a hoof out stretched to, console you, apparently.
Again, though you shrugged her off, narrowing your eyes, looking away from her. Not willing to let her see you nurse even a minor injury. The taste of blood in your mouth was cleansed somewhat as you spat off into the grass, a stream of slightly dark pink saliva staining the well trodden field. After a few steps you came across the egg shaped ball.
Glaring at it slightly before you picked it up and sharply whipped it underhoof to the farm filly. She flinched for a moment, but none the less caught it deftly in her hooves.
“Your ball…” You said flatly as walked back off to where your “team” had huddled up.
Your tongue probed the inside of your mouth, finding a small cut on the inside of your cheek where you had bitten it in the fall. Your lungs still felt heavy as you rejoined the other colts on the hoof ball field.
You had to admit, this “hoofball” game was enjoyable; thrilling even. The strong and the fast were rewarded with points, and the ability to chase and tackle opponents was freeing as well. Your enjoyment was soured, however, by the fact that your team was getting utterly decimated.
Using Rumble, Pipsqueak, and Button Mash as a cover to escape Sparks had been most effective, having been able to retreat all the way to the school house without being seen. Upon arrival though, you all had found that the field was in use.
The Crusaders, heavy one additional grey unicorn, had commandeered the field for their own purposes. They were attempting to gain their marks in something involving a giant rubber band, a vat of unformed jello, and the orange Pegasus’ scooter. After a brief debate; which involved one side using the “we were here first” defense and the other using the “that’s not what the field is for” counterpoint, a deal was struck to end the “uh-uhh” and “yuh-huh” deadlock.
It involved a four on four game of hoofball, fillies vs colts; first team to score three goals won the field. You initially attempted to walk away, expressing your disinterest in such a childish game, but an impression of poultry lobbed in your direction sent you fuming back to accept.
That was nine points ago.
The fillies apparently enjoyed the game and had since forgotten their reason for playing. Scoring two times the original cut off to your team’s pitiful one.
Spitting once more, you form up with the other colts on your side of the field. Each was panting, dirt and grass commingling in their coats. Despite this, Rumble looked at you with a smug grin.
“That's, what? Four times Bloom’s took you off your hooves?”
You respond by merely shooting him a glare.
“She must liiiike you.” He smirked, drawing out the word ‘like’
“Keep talking like that, and the next time I get the ball it's going down your throat.” You snarled at the snickering pegasus.
“I-I think were w-wearing ‘em down.” Wheezed Button optimistically, taking another puff of his inhaler before returning his head low to take deep breaths.
“We awre getting kiwled!” Exclaimed Pipsqueak, encapsulating the true feel of the game.
“I know it looks bad guys.” Rumble began, another attempted to raise the morale of your “lost cause” squad. “But...at least we got some points.”
“The only weason we got those is because Fwint threw me!” The smaller colt said narrowing his eyes at you.
“You. Weren't. Running. Fast enough.” You bit back, instinctively puffing up at the speckled pony. To his credit, he sharpened his own glare and didn't back down.
“Okay, okay, okay.” Rumble said coming between the two of you. “Point is: Pip, way to take one for the team.” He said placing a hoof on his wither, before turning to you. “Flint...don't throw Pip.”
You merely snorted and turned away before you heard him continue.
“Alright! I've got a new strategy.”
This was met by simultaneous groans from you and the other colts.
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“What do you think they are talking about?” Sweetie Belle wondered as she studied the group of colts in the middle of the field. Her usually pearly coat showing only a few minor blemishes from the tussle of a game she normally would have avoided if it wasn't for her friend’s encouragement. She was a little grateful, to be honest, hoofball was a lot less crazy than attempting to get a cutie mark in “extreme jello diving”.
“Probably trying to think of a way they can live this down when we are done spankin ‘em.” Scootaloo guffawed. Her own coat was a bit more sullied, in tribute to her willingness to “throw down” just as heartily, if not more, than the boys.
“Ah still feel bad.” Said Apple Bloom solemnly. “Flint was bleedin’ after ah tackled ‘im.” She traced a hoof in the dirt, her mind playing back the image of the colt she hurt.
Sweetie Belle turned and slyly grinned at her friend. “You could always kiss him and make him feel better.” She said before devolving into a giggle at the mere mention of ‘kissing’.
“Q-quit it!” Apple Bloom blushed, stomping a hoof, but altogether failing to hide a little grin at the same time.
“Whatever,” Scootaloo said dismissively sticking her tongue out at the idea. Colts were dumb after all. Returning to the task at hoof she looked back to their (surprising) star quarterbuck. “You ready for another round, D?”
“Y-Yeah!” Dinky nodded happily. She had ran into the Crusaders earlier that morning by chance and they had invited her along to do some preparation for their latest exploit. She now found herself using her practiced telekinesis spells to expertly launch the hoofball to her teammates on the field. Having to hone her magic to use in the simplest of ways, this activity was quite easy, and fun!
“Great!” Scoot said messing up the younger fillies’ mane playfully, eliciting a laugh from her. Scootaloo’s gaze lifted back to the field where the ragtag group of Colts had finally taken up their position.
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You lined yourself up, yet again with Apple Bloom. The other boys had opted out being paired with her from the start, having been on the personal end of her “farm sculpted” strength you quickly learned why. Even now you still refused to back down from her. It was clear that you weren't as strong as she was but you knew you were more fierce, and that had to count for something. “The plan” this time however played right to that strength of yours. The thought, gracing your lips with a fiendish smirk as you eyes flicked from her to the smaller grey unicorn who held the ball aloft in her golden aura.
The moment arrived and you all were ready and waiting for the play to begin. Your heartbeat fast anticipating the start, centuries of instinct held your body rigid, regardless of your form now.
“HIKE!!!” Shouted Scootaloo, the ball and its carrier falling back as the three fillies moved forward and played interference keeping the other colts at bay. As planned, you recited the word Rumble taught you, the equivalent of what you did best: going for the throat.
“BLITZ!!!” You charged forward, pumping your legs as you sidestepped and weaved past a shocked Apple Bloom. Within moments you were onto Dinky’s position. Relishing the momentary look of horror in her eyes as you came barreling down on her. She was not your target however, as your fore legs stretched for the ball that hung in her TK.
Either out of habit or desperation, Dinky then did something that caused you to hopelessly try to stop. Moving the ball from your grasp she placed it behind her, leaving herself in your full forward momentum. You're already unbalanced self frantically sought to find purchase where there wasn't any. Opting instead to try and roll out of it, you turned your body to the side, involuntarily “hugging” the younger filly down to the ground with you, cradling her into your chest to avoid harming her.
Before you could wonder why “not harming her” would matter, the full force of gravity returned, with you tumbling down to the ground and the small unicorn tumbling on top of you.
Then it happened. Even with your eyes shut, you saw the bright golden aura of her still lit horn flash into your face. For a moment there was nothing.
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Sparks Fly had sat himself on a cloud, high above the school house. He had a lot to do today, it being his wife’s special day, but he purposely wanted to make time for this. Down below in the hoofball field he watched eight kids playing a game, his son among them.
His son among them. He thought again to himself. For the longest time he had worried about his boy. He loved him, their was no doubt about that. But Celestia knows how Flint didn't make it easy some days. He wasn't at all like his nephews from his sister. ‘Flint was…’ He often tried to put it into words but failed to fairly capture it without feeling guilty for thinking it.
Cozy had a way of seeing anything in a good light, a way to dress things up and make them shine. Sparks was an electrician. Things either worked or they needed to be fixed so they did. How he wondered how he could “fix” his angry little foal.
He was still haunted by the memory of when Flint had just learned to walk. He was always temperamental, but now he was mobile and refused to listen, pushing his way past Sparks screaming and grinding his little teeth in a fit. Sparks couldn't remember what it was over; something about a mirror? Either way he had had enough. Sparks yelled into the little foal’s face for him to stop, shaking him by the withers, roughly he was ashamed to admit. Flint did stop screaming. He looked Sparks dead in the eyes, for a foal he had steady eyes. It was then that Sparks saw it for the first time, and he swore it stopped his heart.
It was rage.
Sparks shuddered at the memory, and wrapped his wings a bit tighter to himself. Looking down to the earth below he saw that same child now frolicking with ponies his own age, every so often cracking a grin, that would, fade before he thought anyone would, notice. He chuckled when the little yellow earth filly plowed Flint over then would carefully help him up, only for him to brush her off. The sight bringing to mind another earth filly who would try and coax him out to play with her and her friends.
“We made the right choice coming here.” He smiled as he watched his son play, until a bright golden flash below brought him abruptly to his hooves.
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“Dinky, Omigosh!”
“Flint, you alright?”
Hurt. Everything hurt. Blinking hurt, wincing hurt, you had yet opened your eyes but you knew that would hurt. You raised your hooves and felt another body pressed against you. Judging by how it was shivering a bit, it must hurt too.
The voices of the others were all around you growing more panicked as the seconds ticked by. One of the voices suggested getting somepony, another argued over whom that somepony should be. One voice mentioned ‘Twilight’ a face you didn't want to see for sure.
But just as suddenly as it started, you slowly felt the pain ebbing away. The form on you, more than likely Dinky, started to come around too, her shivering ceasing and her head raising as she rolled off you.
“Geez, you okay, D?” A voice that could only be Scootaloo’s queried to your right where Dinky had just separated from you.
“I-I think so.” You heard, the little unicorn say shakily, her voice a little disoriented.
You raised you hooves to rub the remaining pain away, only to find the beginning of a bruise forming above your eye.
“How’s he?” Said Button’s voice above you.
“S-s-stop talking.” You grunted breathlessly. Opening your eyes and blinking a bit before closing them again when the pain returned a bit.
“He's fine, I think.” Came Pip’s voice flatly somewhere to your left. The flutter of large wings coming closer set your ears on alert, as you shifted forward, sending your head reeling.
“Whoa! Everypony alright? I saw that hit.” An all too familiar voice spoke. It was light, but far too deep to be a foal’s.
“I'm not wearing that stupid suit.” Was all you could say before returning your head back to the grass. You could almost feel seven sets of eyes lock on you and wonder if you had fried your brain.
“Never mind that.” Sparks said as he carefully pried your hooves away from your face, to which you reluctantly allowed with a huff. “Oooh, looks like you're gonna get a black eye.” He said with concern in his voice.
“You're gonna get a black eye.” You snip back as you push him away and get to your hooves, rubbing the spot above your eye to dull the throbbing.
You hear him chuckle from behind you. “Well, he's fine anyway, bout you little lady?”
She must of nodded, because Sparks expresses his relief with an audible ‘phew’.
“When I saw that flash, I thought Flint here had been turned into a toad.” He playfully says, annoyingly poking you with a hoof as you bat him away.
“Thanks for checking on us and all,” Scootaloo says with uncertainty in her voice, “but who are you, mister?”
“Oh sorry,” he says, coming back to check on you, “I'm Sparks, Flint’s Dad.”
You can hear a pause pass. It last for a good two beats before you manage to look up to seven confused faces that regard you and the “parent” over your shoulder.
“Really?” Questions Apple Bloom, looking between you and Sparks as if trying to connect the dots.
Not particularly liking being looked at like a genetic oddity, you decided take it upon yourself, and move things along. “Did you need something, Sparks?”
“Huh?” He looks down at you dazed for a moment before recognition takes hold. “Oh yeah! I need you t-.”
“Not. Wearing. The suit.” You get out with gritted teeth.
He opens his mouth as if to argue but then closes it again. “...fine. But their was something else.”
“What?” You say bluntly, turning to face him.
“It's for your Mom’s Birthday.” He said, rubbing the back of his head with a hoof.
“I signed the card. Willingly. What else do you want?” You say unflinchingly.
“Pick up the cake?” He says sheepishly.
For a moment, you just stared at him. “...Fine.” You sigh with a dejected eye roll.
“You're a good son.” He smiles and pats you on the head.
“I’m really not.” You gripe under your breath.
With that, he gives you a small bit pouch from his saddle bags. “That should be more than enough for the cake,” He says before eyeing the other ponies on the field, “So use the rest to buy your friends some ice cream.” He says with a smile.
“They aren't my..”
“ICE CREAM?” Before you can argue, three colts and four fillies are on you, excitedly pulling and pushing you toward town, thanking Sparks and talking all at once about the flavor they are gonna get and with what toppings they are gonna drown it with.
With a wider grin than before on his face, Sparks watches the entourage of excited ponies make tracks to the bakery.
“The right choice.” He smiles to himself as he kicks off and continues on his mission to put together his wife’s perfect birthday.
Meanwhile, as you were being carried off by this whirlwind of impending sugar rush, all you could think of was how far you had fallen yet again. The great Dragon King reduced to a clown who buys ice cream and delivers birthday cakes, your subsiding headache slowly being replaced by another one.
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Dinky Hooves bounced along with the others, just as excited for Ice Cream at Sugarcube Corner. She had all but forgotten that flash and how scary it was. Thoughts of butterscotch ripple with sprinkles replacing the pain in her head and the word she didn’t understand….
“Zerilith.”